


Face Paint

by VulpesVulpes713



Series: Fictober 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fictober, Halloween, I'm gonna be super lazy with tags because I have to upload so many fics, M/M, So yeah, fictober18, klance, klance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Prompts:“Can you feel this?”“People like you have no imagination.”“How can I trust you?”





	Face Paint

“Keep you eyes closed!” Lance warns, but the sudden jab to his retina does the trick just as well. Keith flinches back, duct filling with tears as his hand comes up to cover his face.

 

“Fuck, Lance! That freakin’ hurt!”

 

Lance makes a sound similar to a laugh that’s been reminded of the situation: cutting short and transitioning into a short cough as Keith flips him off.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, humour ripe in his voice. “But I did say to keep them shut.”

 

“They  _were_. And you should be done now. It’s been almost forty minutes!”

 

Lance scoffs, but again it’s light.

 

“Yeah well, perfection takes time.”

 

“Is that why you take so long getting ready in the morning?” Keith fires back, realizing too late that his would be diss is rather complimentary.

 

But Lance notices right away, and falters for a blissfully cute moment.

 

“You-” he pauses, cheeks almost as red as the face-paint decorating the end of his makeup brush. “Did you just call me perfect?”

 

It’s at this time that Keith elects to follow Lance’s earlier advice, and firmly shuts his eyes as he shakes his head.

 

 

“Shut up,” he murmurs, hoping whatever designs Lance has been painting on his face hide the blush he knows is burning brightly. “Just hurry it up. I’m starving.”

 

Lance snorts, which does things to Keith’s stomach that he can’t blame on hunger, and takes a step closer.

 

“Sure, whatever you say boss. I’m not gonna let you forget that though.”

 

Keith doesn’t answer. He figures it’s best to just hold his tongue at this point.

 

_Crap…haven’t even started drinking yet and already I’m losing my grip around him._

 

He’s in the process of deciding what to use as an excuse for his comment when he feels a breath on his cheek.

 

“Okay,” Lance whispers, and Keith knows without looking the expression of determination the other must be wearing. He can hear it in his voice. “I just need to do your eyeliner, so hold still.”

 

He’s about to nod, then remembers the definition of ‘hold still’. Right.

 

“Just do it.”

 

“Ha-” Lance chuckles: breath tickling Keith’s nose. “You being sponsored by Nike?”

 

 _What..?_  Keith thinks-is about to ask-but Lance goes on unperturbed.

 

“Okaayyy, here we go…” and something wet hits the corner of Keith’s eye. He flinches, of course, and Lance huffs in annoyance. “Keith, dude. What part of keep still don’t you get?”

 

“It’s cold!” Keith argues back, jutting out his lower lip to help emphasize the pout. “You never said it would be cold.”

 

“What,” Lance must raise a brow, as his next question is curious, if not a tad skeptical. “ **Can you feel this?** ”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Lance hums, and Keith peeks his eyes open just enough to watch the boy shrug and proceed to blow hot air onto the end of a long black pencil. He winks when he notices Keith watching, then uses his free hand to tilt Keith’s head back.

 

“Eyes closed. No flinching. This is delicate work.”

 

And then the feeling is back at the corner of his eye-still wet but no longer as cold. It’s tolerable, Keith supposes, but maybe only because of the warmth Lance’s hand provides against his skin.

 

Again he prays his flushed cheeks are hidden beneath whatever Lance has decided to dress him up as. He wouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place had Lance not made it into a competition. But impulsive individuals tended to react better to such things, and Lance knew him well enough to take advantage of that fact.

 

Needless to say he had lost, and Lance had been overjoyed to win the ‘honour’ of choosing his Halloween costume.

 

Keith had immediately expected the worst, but even his wildest thoughts had never dared venture down the path of make-up. He’d figured Lance would stick to something easy and embarrassing.

 

Give him a dress and some heels…a clown nose and a wig.

 

That sort of thing.

 

But this was Lance. And easy wasn’t really something he often went with, especially when it came to pestering Keith.

 

Nearing an hour into make-up and Keith begins to wonder if maybe he should be more worried about the amount of effort going into his face.

 

“You better not be drawing dicks all over me,” he breathes out steadily, avoiding unnecessary facial movement. Lance is, afterall, still holding a sharp pencil to his eye. “Like, I know you won and everything, but I can’t exactly hand out candy to children with a giant penis over my eyes.”

 

Lance chuckles, hand readjusting as he shifts to the other lid.

 

“Jeesh. As if I would waste this precious opportunity to draw something so primal. I’m an artist Keith. And you’ve given me the perfect canvas to work with.”

 

And _yikes…that was a compliment wasn’t it?!_

 

He doesn’t point it out though, in case Lance denies.

 

“So what are you doing then?” he asks instead, obeying as Lance nudges his head back more. “Making me a skeleton? A vampire?”

 

Lance grunts, stepping back for a moment to analyze his work.

 

“ **People like you have no imagination,** you know that?” A brush strokes down his cheekbone, and Keith shivers. “A skeleton…psssh. Too cliché.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

Keith frowns, anxiety and fondness mixing unpleasantly in his gut, like chasing a shot of whiskey with cheap beer.

 

“ **How can I trust you?** ”

 

And then all at once everything leaves his face: Lance’s hand, the brush, the feeling of warm air exhaled on his cheeks…

 

Keith opens his eyes to the sudden absences, only to find Lance staring at him with an expression of disappointment.

 

“Do you not?” he asks, hesitant, and all Keith’s feelings immediately turn to regret.

 

“I didn’t-” he begins, shaking his head as his excuse dissolves to dust. “I  _do_  trust you, Lance. I’m just…worried? I guess? This is my first time dressing up-”

 

“Wait,  _what?!”_ Lance interrupts, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and shaking them gently. “This is your  _first Halloween?!”_

 

And Keith nods, because his mouth won’t work and Lance is so close and he looks so excited now and-

 

“Oh man!” Lance grins, and Keith struggles to take a breath. “Okay, cool, cool cool cool- this is great! My night just got  _infinitely_  better! I can’t believe I get to take your Halloween virginity!”

 

And yep, Keith’s is dying.

 

“My wha-”

 

“This is gonna be  _so_  fun!” Lance goes on, oblivious to the struggling of his friend. His hands leave Keith’s shoulders as he turns to grab a small mirror from off the counter. “I’m so glad I picked this costume. You’re gonna look amazing!”

 

“Lance-”

 

“Here,” he’s cut off again as Lance eagerly shoves the mirror into his hands, giddy as all hell as he steps back to admire his work. “You can look now.”

 

So Keith does, because he’s curious as well, and because he needs the distraction after seeing Lance react in such an…unexpected manner. His brain is still whirling after the whole ‘virginity’ thing.

 

But when he sees his reflection, it takes a moment for Keith to be able to recognize himself. And when he does it’s with a gasp of shock, because  _holy shit. There’s no way this is me! I look-I look…_ _!_

 

“What do you think?” Lance whispers, biting his shirt collar as he watches Keith’s reaction. “Do you…is it too much?”

 

“It’s…” Keith manages, turning his face from side to side to witness all the angles. He’s in awe of the work Lance has done. Reds and oranges decorate his cheeks, blending together so effortlessly that Keith is almost convinced a sunset has taken up residence on his face. Glitter adorns his cheekbones and upper lids, which have been painted with detailed feathers spreading out from his tear ducts to his temples. His nose is contoured and painted black at the tip: sharpened to look like a beak.

 

Every part of his face glistens and shines with various hues of fall, looking like a scene from the park he and Lance frequent now that the leaves are changing. It’s his favourite season, though he doesn’t think he’s told Lance that.

 

Regardless, he’s in admiration of what the boy has done, and slowly lowers the mirror to stare back into worried blue eyes.

 

“So…?” Lance asks, clearly anxious to hear what has to be said about his efforts. “Is it too much? Did I overdo it? Oh man, I knew I shouldn’t have done so much! I always do too muc-”

 

“It’s amazing,” Keith admits, cutting Lance off. Because it is. Keith has never seen anything so beautiful, so intricate. And to think something so wonderful was done on his face! To think it’ll be washed off when the night is over! No…No! He can’t do that! He-

 

“I want to keep this on forever.”

 

Lance’s beam is bright enough to rival the light overhead, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he giggles happily.

 

“Ah! Good! You like it!”

 

“I love it,” Keith corrects, and Lance squeals. “But…Lance,” he drawls, gazing at his reflection once more before as he attempts to word the question as delicately as possible. “What… _exactly_ …am I supposed to be?”

 

Lance’s eyes blow wide as he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest to complete the look of disbelief.

 

“You mean you can’t tell?!”

 

“Uh..” He doesn’t want to guess, because he’s not stupid enough to play that game with Lance. Besides, judging from the feathers, the only thing popping into Keith’s mind is a chicken, and he very much doubts Lance would put in that much effort for something so ridiculous.

 

Well, actually, now that he thinks about it…

 

“You’re a  _phoenix!”_

 

And  _oh! That…actually makes more sense!_

 

“A phoenix…” he mumbles to himself, glancing again into the mirror. The colours, the feathers, the added fire details he hadn’t noticed before…yeah. Makes sense. “That’s amazing.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” Lance admits, proudly. “I also think you look amazing, but that’s my own biased opinion.”

 

And Keith is blushing again: a reaction he’s coming to expect will frequent him for the rest of the evening.

 

“I just…I can’t believe the amount of detail!”

 

“Yeah well…”

 

“I really thought you were gonna make me look stupid,” Keith confesses, watching Lance’s eyes dart to the floor. “But you didn’t. You made me look…sort of badass actually. I really don’t know what to say.”

 

“Thanks man,” Lance replies sheepishly, going about cleaning up the mess he made to create such a masterpiece. “I’m glad. Everyone is going to go crazy when they see the full costume.”

And…that has Keith pausing.

 

“The…full costume? Is this not it?” Because  _surely_  Lance would think this is enough.  _Surely_  there isn’t more, because what on earth could be added to this to make it even more spectacular?! What could Lance  _possibly_ have in mind to take this to the next level?

 

_Is there even a next level?_

 

“Oh ho,” Lance chuckles, only this time it’s a wicked sound, and Keith immediately regrets doubting him. Because this is Lance. And Lance doesn’t stop at amazing. He goes above and beyond into the realm of unbelievably possible. It’s something Keith has always admired. Something that makes him proud to know Lance and experience his creativity and ambition first hand.

 

Except, maybe this time he’s a little too close, seeing as it’s  _him_ that appears to be the focus of Lance’s skills. He wants to regret it…thinks the night is young enough for that to still occur.

 

But he can trust Lance. And it’s just a Halloween costume, how over-the-top can it really get?

 

“Oh Keith,” Lance tsks, grinning as he shakes his head, and right away Keith knows the answer to his unspoken ponderings. “Just wait until you see the wings.”


End file.
